Thursday, December 30, 2010

Excessive Celebration!#* Everyone at the Wareham was grumbling about that. I bet the refs are not allowed to call Excessive Celebration at the FIESTA Bowl... and by the way, while the wildcat put his ONE hand to his head in a salute, an orangeman put his TWO hands into a diamond after his TD.

At this game, there will be Mexican food for purchase- from the new joint that is in the old Doe's restaurant building--El Tapatios.

It is a great space for the game.

[on a date night: Get yourself next door to the Wareham, to Harry's-- for Fine Dining;

it is the best food and prettiest place to be well fed. bring your fat wallet...]

When i get home i will upload a couple videos and pics from today's game.

in the meantime--Here's a couplea OLD vids from the wareham watch parties: click twice to watch larger on Youtube

Seems to me like there are a LOT of bowl games...hmmm. Is it all about money? as long as fans support the bowls, will they continue to expand the offerings postseason? Regardless of the quality of the records of the teams?
When i was young, there was the Sugar Bowl, The Cotton Bowl, Rose Bowl, Orange---hmmm.
Musta been more than 4. Since there are now 264 post season bowls...

Kansas State University Wildcats and Syracuse Orangemen at the Pinstripe Bowl in the Big Apple December 2010

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night.
His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bob's wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad's eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob.

Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys.

He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938.
Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined to make one - a storybook! Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose. Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there.

The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print,_ Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book.In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn't end there either.
Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore , it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of "White Christmas."

The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

I know i have several posts already of the geese, but this morning i caught a MASSIVE group near the house, and this weekend we laughed as we saw that Canadian Geese had TAKEN OVER one lakeside community in Lee's Summit. The first Video, embedded here, is worth clicking on twice and then watching full screen on youtube. at 2 minutes you can watch them all take off, awesome! and at 3 minutes they form a point shape, cool.
Then, the canadians at lee's summit. when the dogs come out, they just move a little bit -to show they care?
After these embeds, some still shots.

Monday, December 27, 2010

It is worth the watch, if you can still steel yourself for watching ...The Winding Down....
The migration of the largest land mammal. The Wildebeests are finely weird looking animals.
The footage of the crocs catching/eating the wildebeasts, and the wildebeests trying to figure out HOW TO CROSS THE RIVER away from the superhuge Crocs, is X rated.
but Not as bad as the carnage of humans on elephants, also on the same 60 minutes. Must have needed a ratings boost. Do an entire show of Wild Animals at-risk.. The pre-suffering cute baby animals evoke sympathy;
showing the human babies in pakistan's flood,
congo's ravishing,
or haiti's stewpot can add a dose of guilt and horror onto sympathy.
Wildebeest pics HERE

HERE is the link to the story. Excerpt:
It's called the "great migration," an endless march of life, and death and rebirth for millions of animals. When you see it, you might agree this is one of the greatest shows on Earth. If you are at all interested in East Africa or its wildlife or safari travel, you are familiar with the migration - and the greatest show on Earth hyperbole that usually accompanies it. ...The wildebeest migration has been underway for thousands of years, having survived droughts, volcanoes, the arrival of Maasai herdsmen, the arrival of Europeans, a devastating rinderpest epidemic and the steady encroachment of agriculture and civilization...The wildebeest migration is driven by water and grass. As the southern Serengeti dries out in spring, the wildebeest - a million and a half of them, joined by two hundred thousand zebras - move north to Kenya and the Mara Triangle, which is watered by the Mara River. During the dry season, the Mara and its tributaries are the only source of water in the region. The headwaters of the Mara River lie in Kenya's Mau Forest - a dense equatorial rain forest that traps rainwater and regulates its release into the river ("like a sponge," says Pelley). A growing population in and around the Mau Forest, combined with irresponsible land use practices and delicate politics, have led to deforestation of vast swaths of forest. Loss of forest canopy has hindered the forest's ability to attract rainfall and hold it. .This has led to erratic - and substantially reduced - flows in the Mara River. All of that eventually reaches downs tream to the Mara Triangle and the grasses that grow there and the animals that depend on both water and grasses to survive...

Elephants loving, mourning, joking. Lining up to pay last respects. A most touching and bellwether story. If you are not moved to action or interiorly in some way, you are truly made of discarded slaughtered bull lard.-

HERE IS the 60 minutes Link. excerpt: "For two decades, a group of wild African elephants has been watched over, studied and protected by their own guardian angel: an extraordinary American scientist named Andrea Turkalo.

Turkalo's own story is pretty amazing, but not nearly as compelling as the insights into elephant behavior her research has revealed, especially when it comes to "the secret language of elephants."

Elephants communicate in a complicated, sophisticated language that scientists are trying to decipher and compile into the world's first elephant dictionary. ...this is all happening in one of the most magical places on Earth - a remote clearing in Central Africa where forest elephants, the rarest, most mysterious, and most threatened member of the species congregate..."
Presented by Bob Simon [60 Minutes]

The Video is HERE
and here embedded below:
BEWARE! there are commercials. yikes!you may be at risk for heart attack and stroke!

The unholy pictures of the slaughter for tusks- beyond words.
Please Here is the Wildlife conservation network

Saturday, December 25, 2010

May there be harmony in all your relationships. May sharp words, envious thoughts, and hostile feelings be dissolved.
May you give and receive love generously. May this love echo in your heart like the joy of church bells on a clear December day.
May each person who comes into your life be greeted as another Christ. May the honour given the Babe of Bethlehem be that which you extend to every guest who enters your presence.
May the hope of this sacred season settle in your soul. May it be a foundation of courage for you when times of distress occupy your inner land.

May the wonder and awe that fills the eyes of children be awakened within you. May it lead you to renewed awareness and appreciation of whatever you too easily take for granted.
May the bonds of love for one another be strengthened as you gather with your family and friends around the table of festivity and nourishment.
May you daily open the gift of your life and be grateful for the hidden treasures it contains.
the coming year be one of good health for you. May you have energy and vitality. May you care well for your body, mind, and spirit.
May you keep your eye on the Star within you and trust this Luminescent Presence to guide and direct you each day.

May you go often to the Bethlehem of your heart and visit the One who offers you peace. May you bring this peace into our world. Joyce Rupp

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry.
Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.
Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me
about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me,
ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.
but none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.
When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single
light in a ground floor window.
Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as
their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I
always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my
assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.
“Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice.
I could hear
something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door
opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me.
She was wearing a print dress
and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940′s
movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no
one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with
sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils
on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and
glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said.
I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She
took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me
for my kindness. “It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the
way I would want my mother treated.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you
drive through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a
hospice.”

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t
have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have
very long.”
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you
like me to take?” I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through
the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an
elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as
a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,

“I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low
building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed
under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were
solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been
expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the
door.

The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.
“There are other passengers,” I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly.
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you”.
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind
me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift.
I drove aimlessly,
lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if
that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient at the

end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven
away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more
important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives
revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us
unaware–beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Here is a picture from the KC STAR of Shawn Spiwak, who has a different morning routine than most of us. Please click pic to enlarge and consider your place on the planet

Shawn Spiwak photo by Allison Long of KC Star
More HERE and from HERE : "Lineman Shawn Spiwak was working when he was hit by 7,200 volts of electricity by what was thought to have been a dead wire. ...electricity ran through his body, sparks flying from his chest. He fell backwards and was left dangling upside down from his safety harness. His arm had been burned through and through. There were entry and exit points left by the electricity.

In the same newpaper, was this Oliphant Cartoon. while he is often spot on hilarious, i found this racist and baiting. Is he calling the others in the drawing racists? President Obama is half white. I wonder why he is portrayed as a slave? Funnier if Obama had been portrayed as obama.

We all have our little or humongous crosses to bear.
Wea ll have our routines of what offends us,
what irritates us,
what makes us attack another.
But really, what if we all chilled out?
More things to ponder: (click on pic to enlarge)

Need a Laugh?

an interesting place

Beauty Horse

Oh Well

I Love You Snorkel Cat

Sweetest Vultures

Migrating Geese Are Here

The Flint Hills of Kansa

Feast of the Immaculate Conception

Mystical Things

Aung San Suu Kyi Released

Nonviolence

艾未未 Love the Future 爱未来

The Whole World is Watching

The Spirit In Which It Is Given

Well, there is a lot of pain and sorrow, sacrifice, rage and insanity, anxiety and confusion. And that is just the first 5 minutes.Please accept these stories and posts in the spirit in which they are given- to edify, to lift, to lighten, to validate, to weep.Because also: love and sacrifice, wisdom and justice, clarity and gifts. Sometimes it takes more than 5 minutes.Today I added K's story to this blog. She was a little 18 year old when she was deceived into a night of betrayal and crime; trafficked; bought and sold. it is profoundly disturbing that her betrayer was another woman, a wolf in sheep's clothing. hang in there, everybody. Everything is OK in the end. If it isn't ok, it's not the end.